Love Hina: Sister Syndrome, Brother Complex
by Dark Glass01
Summary: A Tribute. Kanako Urashima was a trouble soul, hiding her sufferings behind her thousand masks. Yet, when a kindred spirit offers to help her win the relationship she always wanted, will she be able to convince herself? Rated to be safe. KanakoX? PosInc
1. Chapter 1

**Author Notes: **[Insert Stock Disclaimer here]

The focus of this story is on the character Kanako Urashima. I have shifted the timeline (As I feel the events of Love Hina Again where too few.), so the events take place directly after Keitaro's 3rd exam failure (Chapter 18 of the Manga, Not quite sure what Anime episode). If you are uncomfortable with the possibility of step-incest, you may wish to reconsider reading this story. I am in no way condoning nor condemning that type of relationship; I am simply writing about it.

OC's will exist; primarily to help flesh out the setting.

**Dear Diary,**

**Who am I? **

I don't even know anymore.

When people talk to me, they call me Kanako Urashima. I can see how they'd make that mistake. My regal inky hair, piercing amber stare, and elegant style match hers exactly. I stand just as tall, weigh just as much, and speak in the same voice she does; smooth and cat-like. We both travel with the same woman, Hina Urashima, and both of use practice her school of martial arts. But, we aren't the same person. We couldn't be.

When Kanako speaks, everybody listens. She is strict, determined, able to adapt herself to anything life throws at her. Her disguise are used so she can do as she wishes, laughing with impunity at those she fools, while mine stand as little more than places to hide. Indeed, whenever she does something wrong, it's usually my fault.

When she wants something, she runs to get it. I sit back and cry.

Nobody ever really sees me; I hide that well. Indeed, I hide so well that, though I want and try to let the world know I exist, they still can't find me. Even the one who really should know… no, I still can't say it.

Kanako, I know you sometimes read this, when you're trying to find me. Please, if you read this, just… do what I ask. Promise me the next time you see him, you'll tell him how I feel. You're so much stronger... I know you can do it.

Just let me wear my mask.

**1999, March 18****th****.**

**Who am I?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: Italicized words mean the word is spoken or written in Japanese. My keyboard does not possess Kanji, nor am I fluent in the tongue. **

**Also, this chapter will be abnormally short. The ending just seemed… natural. **

Everything was flat.

The long, winding highways stretched out bellow, straight lines puncturing the blocks of farmland. The cars upon them where like little ants, scurrying through the grass, bringing their loads to and from a great nest. Every so often, a cluster of buildings became visible, highly condensed and large, but far more often was barren space or small buildings; little to see and even less to be excited about.

Which begged a simple question: What was Hina Urashima, world traveler, adventurer, and senior citizen, doing on a 747 to the heartland of the States?

This was the question Kanako Urashima was pondering as she scribbled away in her notepad. Red Leather bound, paper nice and crisp; she liked to keep everything in her life clean and orderly. The low roar of the engines outside, the chatter of the other passengers, and the rumbling of the frame accompanied the light scratching of pen on paper, her thoughts flowing from her mind.

It was a poem. Or, that is, she meant for it to be a poem. The way her eyes where slightly tighter than usual, alongside the force she put into her arm, showed she was having a little difficulty with it.

_The pastureland sky,_

_Filled with the lives of many_

_Born by the strong wind_

_No no no, _she chastised herself. _The balance is totally off. _With a strong coat of ink covering up her error, she continued on, oblivious to the world about her.

Her matron, on the other hand, seemed much more at peace… though this was likely because she was catching a nap. She snored lightly, small body free in her seat, a light smile on her face. This same pattern had been going on for hours and hours, ever since they'd taken off from the Reagan International Airport.

"_It will just be a quick stop, dear_." She'd said as Kanako stood impatiently the ticket line. "_I just wanted to drop in on an old friend's for a few hours. Then I'll drop you right back off in Japan." _ Of course, she could have just done a phone call or maybe take advantage of this new "internet" thing, but she liked to act her age. So, like a dutiful granddaughter, Kanako had smiled and nodded, thoughts of her parents and brother never far from her mind.

Especially her brother.

"Attention Passangers," The stewardess in front politely vocalized. "We've begun are decent into the Minneapolis International Airport. Please return your tray tables to the locked and upright position, and refrain from operating any electronic devices of the duration of our flight. Thank you for choosing Transcontinental Airlines, and enjoy your stay." Her voice was one of those perky, somewhat overbearing tones; something Kanako truly disliked.

"Hmmm," her grandmother stirred in her slumber as the passengers went about their preparations, finishing off the last of the in-flight snacks and pulling their rambunctious children back into their seatbelts. Of course, none of this really mattered; what she was really worried about was the mental block that was hitting her with this paper.

Looking to make sure she wasn't being watched, Kanako flipped back through her previous entries, the ease and grace of her rhymes seeming to dance over the page in perfect form. Indeed, the Kanji themselves where just as much a work of art as the words, perfection shining in each stroke. Her mind shut out the less than ideal though; the entries written in uneasy English, a few of her sappier poems, and even some crude sketch work she'd tried.

None of those things could ever live up to their subject. He was too perfect.

Focused as she was, she hardly felt the small, warm hand settle on her wrist, only catching it by the resistance when she tried to move her hand over again. "_Kanako dear_," a gentle, semi-groggy voice came from her right. "_What time is it?"_

Breaking her concentration, Kanako looked over at her grandmother. Her eyes where still sleepy, the left one in particular, as her frame pulled her back up straight. "_Its 4:00 grandmother," _ Kanako gave the best bow she could in her position, bound by the frame of her chair and the seatbelt. _"We'll be landing in about 15 minutes." _ There was a pause in the conversation as she discreetly flipped her book shut, only a soft thump signaling it had ever been open. _"Did you sleep well?"_

Hina stretched her shoulders up, working the stiffness from her body. _"Come now, I'm ancient." _She joked, chuckling. _"I'd like to wake up just in time to go to bed. Have you been enjoying yourself?" _Her smile was always so sweet, especially on that face. Nobody would have guessed a trained killer was just underneath… no matter how worn.

"_Just a little writing." _Kanako shrugged the topic off, holding the journal tight to her knees. "_Not much else to do on this plane." _Passing another glance to the window, the city of Minneapolis started to come into view. The great skyscrapers of glass and steel, the road winding across like mesh on a sweater, and the sheer number of lights… well, it was more like Japan then the farmland they'd been flying over. She just kept looking down, eyes locking on the real wonder; the majestic thickness of the river, splitting the city into two pieces, each just as well-built as the other.

"_Lovely place, isn't it?" _Hina chimed in expectantly, peeking over Kanako's shoulder. _"Small enough not to be overwhelming, but large enough to have everything a person could ask for. Richard always was a smart man… with a smart son, if my addled brain serves." _The sentence finished with another light laugh before she pulled back, sighing in contentment.

Richard… that was name of the man they were here to meet. Her grandmother had told so many stories about the man, and their 10 year journey of the America together, that she could almost picture him in her mind. Tall, lanky, if somewhat pale. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a wonderful smile… her grandmother got pictures of him every year, as they wrote constantly. She'd even shown him his son a few times… what was his name again? She couldn't quite recall.

"_You'll just love him," _Was another phrase she'd heard every so often since they'd flown onto this continent. _"He's just a little older then you, really handsome and intelligent. Speaks passable Japanese and has a knack with words even. He'll keep you entertained." _Followed by an implied joke of exactly how people their age "entertained" each other.

Kanako had never been able to tell her why she despised the idea.

There was a silence between the two as they descended, more and more details of the city coming into view. The cars, the theaters, the parklands… it was an interesting sight, to be sure. Slowly, surely, they came closer and closer to the airport, everybody gathering up their things for the landing.

"_You know," _her Grandmother interrupted her sight-seeing sagely. _"You should really take this opportunity to try to make a friend. You'll need them." _

And, before she could even turn her head in response, Kanako felt the jolt as the landing gear bumped down onto the ground carrying them towards the terminal.

"We've now landed at Minneapolis International Airport," The attendant's voice again filled the cabin. "Please make sure to grab all your luggage before exiting the plane before exiting in a calm and orderly fashion. Again, thank you for choosing Intercontinental and we hope to see you again."

Before the rest of the passengers where even out of their seatbelt, Grandma Hina was already in the aisle, moving as quickly as her old legs could walk. Face lit up, she seemed truly excited.

And, for some strange reason, Kanako felt herself get a little excited too.


End file.
